


But the Best of Men

by lusilly



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Domestic Avengers, Fluff, Gen, Good Steve Rogers, M/M, Precious Peter Parker, Superfamily (Marvel), Tony Stark is Good With Kids
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-22
Updated: 2018-05-22
Packaged: 2019-05-10 02:32:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14728295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lusilly/pseuds/lusilly
Summary: In which Tony introduces a fifteen-year-old boy to Steve, and Steve is touched that Tony would introduce him to his son.(Except he's not Tony's son, he's the newest Avenger, and Tony's just completely oblivious to how parental he's become.)





	But the Best of Men

**Author's Note:**

> This is totally inspired by this headcanon on tumblr: http://buckysmouthguard.tumblr.com/post/174126931212/rob-anybody-thecommunityoftrustworthysinks-in. I love the idea that everyone just assumes Peter is Tony's son, and Tony doesn't even realize.
> 
> This fic totally doesn't fit into the timeline of the MCU but I'm imagining it like, if Spider-Man: Homecoming was set after Age of Ultron but before Civil War. Everyone is happily living at the Avengers Compound.
> 
> The History Channel show mentioned herein is Deadliest Warrior, and I've literally DREAMED of Cap being on it before: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Deadliest_Warrior
> 
> Title from a corny poem lmao https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/44317/only-a-dad

            The sprawling Avengers compound felt empty on the best of days, but today Steve found it especially depressing. Vision and Wanda were out on what she had explicitly refused to admit to Steve was a date, Colonel Rhodes was out on some military business, Natasha was taking care of a mission in Europe she hadn’t bothered to tell Steve about, and Sam was back in D.C. for his niece’s high school graduation. He’d very graciously extended the invitation to Steve as well, but Steve had politely declined. It was a family event, and he suspected Captain America’s attendance at a high school graduation might have the unfortunate effect of overshadowing the graduates they were meant to be honoring.

            So there he was, in Avengers HQ all by himself. He’d turned off the compound’s A.I. because he didn’t like it listening in on him when he was alone, though the quiet was equally unsettling to him. To stave it off, he flipped on the TV while making dinner. For a while he’d listened to the news, then it started to get overwhelming, so he switched to the History Channel. Yeah, it could be a little dry sometimes: but he had a lot of history to catch up on, so he typically found it interesting enough. If the sunset was nice, maybe after dinner he’d go up to the roof and do a couple color studies.

            The monitor next to the kitchen sink pinged, indicating someone entering the gates up the long driveway. Steve leaned over to take a look, but it was instantly obvious: a car that flashy could only possibly belong to one man.

            Sure enough, a few minutes later a familiar voice rang out from the main entrance to the compound. “Honey! I’m home!”

            “Hi Tony,” called Steve, without looking up from the vegetables he was slicing. “Didn’t realize you were planning to drop by tonight.”

            “Eh,” answered Tony. Steve heard him enter the kitchen behind him, but didn’t glance around. “Wasn’t actually planning on it, really, just sort of – came up in conversation. Thought I could show off a little. Brought a friend,” he added.

            At this, Steve finally did look around, eyebrows raised. He expected Pepper, of course, and Steve liked Pepper, though he thought she put up with an awful lot from Tony – but it took a second to register the lanky kid beside Tony, his big brown eyes gone wide in amazement.

            “Oh,” said Steve, setting down the knife, brushing his hands off with a dishtowel. Without any introduction, he held out his hand. “Steve Rogers,” he said. “Nice to meet you.”

            The kid stared at his hand for a moment, before Tony cleared his throat. “C’mon Pete,” he said. “What do you say to the nice Captain America?”

            All color dropped out of the kid’s face, and he instantly grabbed Steve’s hand, shaking it maybe a little too hard. “H-hi,” he said; his voice cracked, and he cleared his throat and restarted, “Uh, hi, Mr. Rogers – I mean, Mr. America – oh, shoot, Cap, Captain-”

            Taking mercy on the kid, Steve told him, “You can just call me Steve. And what do I call you?”

            “P-Peter,” he stammered, still shaking Steve’s hand. “My name’s – Peter.”

            “Peter,” echoed Steve, letting the kid clutch his fingers tightly. “Well, it’s real nice to meet you, Peter.” Regretfully, he added, “And I'm sorry, but you kind of stopped by at a bad time – I’m the only one home.”

            “It’s fine,” said Tony, having already wandered away towards the TV, pawing through the couch cushions for the remote. “Everyone knows you’re the coolest Avenger, anyway. Right Pete?”

            Bright-eyed and breathless, Peter said, “Yeah, yeah, for sure. I mean,” he added quickly, walking that back, “except for Iron Man.” Then to Steve he added, “No offense, Mr. Rogers.”

            “None taken,” said Steve. “And like I said, just ‘Steve’ is fine.”

            “No no,” called Tony, glancing around from the TV. “‘Mr. Rogers’ is good too. That would actually make for the most amazing reboot, can you imagine? Friday,” he called aloud. “Add item to my To-Do List: Pitch Mr. Roger’s Neighborhood two-point-oh to PBS. I’ll make you the robot king.” In the momentary silence that followed, Tony repeated, “Friday?”

            “I turned off your computer systems,” Steve told him, from the kitchen. “Don’t like it spying on me.”

            “She’s not _spying_ ,” said Tony, offended. “She’s helping out. She’s very helpful. Pete, back me up here.”

            “Uhh, yeah,” said Peter, nodding quickly. “Mine’s called Karen. But she’s really useful, I’d never turn her off.” Then he frowned and glanced over at Tony. “ _Can_ I turn her off?”

            “No,” responded Tony shortly. “Actually,” he pointed at Steve with the television remote, “neither can you, without the proper overrides. Friday,” he barked once more. “Look alive. Puppetmaster’s in the house.”

            With a gentle electronic whirring, the compound seemed to come to life. “Good evening, Mr. Stark,” said a familiar artificial voice in a familiar artificial Irish accent.

            Without looking away from Steve, Tony asked, “You catch that PBS thing earlier?”

            “Yes, sir,” said the A.I. “Added to your To-Do List.”

            “Sorry you got switched off, sweetheart,” Tony added. “Cap doesn’t like you listening to him pee.”

            Steve rolled his eyes. To Peter, he said, “I’d apologize for him, but I'm sure you're used to it by now.”

            Totally starstruck, Peter stuttered out a strangled laugh, then replied, “Ah – yeah, I guess I kind of am, a little bit, maybe. But I don't mind though, I think it's great actually, he's great."

            The slightest bit impressed, Steve nodded. "Good," he told the kid. "That's good to hear."

            Turning around to face the TV screen once more, Tony asked disdainfully, “Are you watching the History Channel? Really? You’re the only one home on a Friday night, you could at least put on some pornography or something.” Then he cocked his head and amended, “I take that one back. No way Captain America watches porn.”

            Ignoring that last comment, Steve wanted to ask, “Who watches pornography in the living room?” but he also didn’t want to bring it up any more in front of the kid. Before he could say anything else, though, he was saved by Peter suddenly piping up, “Wait, I love this show!”

            Betrayed, Tony whipped around. He eyed Peter for a moment, then said: “Nerd.”

            “No, this show is really cool,” insisted Peter, going to stand at the back of the couch, entranced by the screen. “They take, like, different soldiers from different times in history and pit ‘em up against each other. Like, there was one with a Roman gladiator versus a ninja, it was dope. Hey,” said Peter, turning around to face Steve, who had returned to chopping vegetables. “Weren’t you on it?”

            Steve glanced up at the two of them. Tony too had turned around, one eyebrow cocked. “No,” said Tony. “You must be thinking of something else, Cap hasn’t done any TV appearances since that Sixty Minutes interview.”

            “I didn’t fight anyone,” admitted Steve, setting the knife aside and sliding the chopped vegetables into a big pot. “I just did a little – consulting. What do you call ‘em, floating heads?”

            “Talking heads,” supplied Tony. “You were a talking head? Where was I?”

            Steve glanced at him and gave a noncommittal shrug.

            “What?” asked Tony, looking genuinely insulted. “This show pits history’s most famous gladiators against each other, and we didn’t even get a Cap versus Iron Man episode?”

            “ _History_ ,” echoed Steve pointedly. “Consider yourself lucky, Tony. They just asked me because I’m old.”

            “Oh, wow,” breathed Peter, staring at Steve with stars in his eyes. “Aren’t you, like, a hundred this year?”

            “Ninety-eight,” Steve answered benevolently. Tony made a face as Steve poured literal water into the pot. He was boiling it. Of course he was fucking boiling it. God bless him.

            Glancing around at Peter, Tony snapped, “Hey, kid. Cut it out.”

            Peter blinked, twisting around. “Uh, cut what out?”

             With one finger, Tony gestured meaningfully in between Peter and Steve. “No, no, no,” he said. “That’s not how this works. You can’t think he’s cooler than me, that’s not allowed.”

            “He was on the History Channel!”

            “Peter, come on,” said Tony, feigning disappointment. “Never say those words to me again, ever. In fact, never say them to anyone again. Anyway, I’ve been on – I don’t know, what do nerd kids watch – Discovery Kids, or whatever, plenty of times. I was on Bill Nye’s show once.”

            Stirring the pot of boiling vegetables, Steve asked mildly, “Who’s Bill Nye?”

            Peter’s eyes bulged. “ _Who’s_ Bill _Nye_ -?”

            “Oh, Christ,” muttered Tony.

            But it was too late. “Bill! Bill! Bill! Bill!” Peter chanted, then he cupped his hands around his mouth and lowered his voice to sing, “ _Bill Nye the Science Guy…_ ”

            “Alright, kiddo,” said Tony, moving forward and seizing Peter by the shoulder. “Think you’ve had enough excitement for tonight, time to head home. Say bye-bye to the nice Captain, Peter.”

            Peter waved furiously. “It was really nice meeting you, Mr. Rogers!”

            As Tony dragged him out of the kitchen, Steve called, “You too, Peter.”

            From the front hall, Steve heard Tony talking to Peter, his voice lowered. “I’ll be right there, give me a hot second. Alright. Don’t touch anything.”

            The front door opened and closed, and the monitor by the sink showed the kid jogging back out to the car. It took Tony a moment before he appeared, hands in his pockets, watching Steve cook.

            “So,” he said. “What do you think?”

            Honestly, Steve said, “He seems like a really good kid, Tony.”

            Tony made a face, gave a shrug. “He’s alright.”

            “Well, I’m glad I got to meet him,” Steve continued. Tony grimaced as Steve dashed one single shake of salt into the pot. Could take the kid out of 1940, he guessed, but couldn’t take the 1940 out of the kid. Stirring the extremely sad mixture within the pot, Steve added, “I hope I get to see more of him.”

            “Yeah,” answered Tony, nodding. “You will. The whole team will, starting pretty soon.”

            There was a short pause. Steve glanced up at Tony.

            Casually, he asked, “You knew I was the only one here, didn’t you?”

            “’Course I did,” said Tony. “Thought I’d start him small, you know, one-by one.” Almost apologetically, he added, “He’s fifteen, you know. And you know how kids are.”

            Steve made a face as if to say, _Not really_ , and said: “I’ll take your word for it.” When Tony said no more, Steve added, “And I’m honored, Tony. It was really good to meet him.”

            Tony stared at Steve for a second, searching for any indication of mirth, suspicious Steve was making fun of him. Finding none, he just said, “Well. Don’t get too excited, you’ll wind up sick of him pretty soon.”

            “Doubt it,” countered Steve. “We’ve managed to put up with you this long, haven’t we?”

            Tony didn’t say so, but that one kind of stung.

            “Anyway,” he said, looking away. “Gotta get the little tot home before his bedtime. Enjoy your disgusting old people dinner, Rogers.”

            With a grin, Steve gave Tony a two-fingered salute, and Tony headed back towards the entrance. “Friday,” he called, before he left. “You know the theme song from that old Captain America cartoon from the ‘70s? Next time he’s on the shitter, just fucking blast it at him, OK?”

            “Yes sir,” came Friday’s dutiful voice, and Tony swept out of the compound. Behind him, he could hear Steve laugh.

            The ride home consisted of Peter reliving every single moment of his encounter of Captain America in excruciating detail, and as they reached the city Tony suddenly regretted not getting Happy to drive the kid instead, because this shit was exhausting.

            Finally, he stopped in front of Peter’s building. “Thanks Mr. Stark!” he said enthusiastically, slipping out of the car. “This was so great! Wow! That was amazing! I just met Captain America!”

            “Yeah, yeah,” said Tony, eyeing him. “Don’t sound so excited, alright?”

            Instantly, the kid sobered up. Tried to, anyway. “Right,” he said. “Thanks, Mr. Stark. This was really great.”

            “Sure thing, kiddo. Now go,” he said, nodding at the building. “Your hot aunt’s probably worried about you.”

            With one final grin, Peter nodded, and then he turned and scampered away.

            Tony was only two blocks away from where he’d dropped Peter off, thinking about how Steve had seemed oddly cool with adding a teenager to the Avengers, when it hit him like a fucking rock. He pulled over right then and there, because texting while driving kills, and then pulled out his phone.

           

**Author's Note:**

> Do not @ me for giving Tony an iPhone lmao I had limited options here


End file.
